The Best Treasure: Chapter 1
by Frappawhip Loves Starbucks
Summary: Abigail is captured and Ben races to find and save her...but there's a hitch. Riley, of course, helps Ben with technology and a good humor. There will be sequels called chapters after this one is completed.
1. Chapter 1

Six-month pregnant Abigail Chase was walking down a mostly deserted French Boulevard and enjoying the sunshine. Her husband hadn't come along with her due to the ever-present excuse of having to make a new lecture and deliver it. She was looking at a display of market apples when a piece of duct tape, or was it?, was placed on her mouth and she was carried into a plush car.

"Where is your husband, Dr. Chase?" a man with a Welsh accent inquired. He pulled the tape off of her mouth quickly, knowing she wouldn't scream.

"Dr. Gates," Abigail corrected. "I have no idea." Th captor began tying her hands together tightly with packaging tape.

"Bullshit," the man quipped. "Where is your husband?"

"I'd rather die than tell you." Abigail spat in his face, but he only wiped it away with mild interest.

"Well, then how about you tell me about Riley Poole's whereabouts." It was an order, not a request.

"Telling the truth, I still have no idea," Abigail answered. "Why don't you ask my husband?"

"Very funny. Tell me where they are."

"Riley changes his address frequently. I wouldn't have any idea where he is. I heard he changed a couple weeks ago, but I haven't heard from him since. My husband is in some place of which I do not know."

"Likely story, Dr. Chase." He began re-taping her mouth.

Abigail didn't feel like correcting it even if she could. She thought it might let her captors have an excuse to use it against her at some point if she struggled. Luckily, she was forced out of the car and into a Victorian-era house of the richer population.

A/N: This was an intro, so it doesn't need to be exceedingly long.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dammit, Riley." Ben pounded the wall. "Where the hell is she?"

"Nice word choice, Ben. I've never heard you use that many swear words in an entire phrase. Let me just savor the moment." Riley closed his eyes.

"Cut it out, Riley," Ben ordered, frustrated. "She's either punctual or saying that she will be late." With dusk fading, they were losing precious time to search for her. He was rubbing his temples, a habit that mirrors Abigail's. It was raw and it hurt, but Ben was too preoccupied with the hurt felt from Abigail's lack of existence. "There aren't any clues to her whereabouts, but we can come up with a way to find her. They probably want me; they might be treasure-hunters. So they would capture Abigail to get me to come rescue her. The first place they would wait for me is the marketplace, and I would end up the same way. Although, there might be some sort of evidence of where they are. A getaway car would definitely leave behind skid marks unless they are incredibly smart, which would leave them in no hurry to get close to the house or warehouse. Riley, can you see what housing developments and warehouses are in the area?"

"Sure thing, but I'll need coffee." Riley smiled expectantly. Ben sighed and left for the kitchenette of the roomy hotel room. "Anyway," the keyboard keys could be heard, "how can you suddenly think calmly after yelling in distress?"

"Riley, just work." Ben set the coffee mug down next to the laptop, which Riley ignored. "Yes, sir." A moment's pause ensued. "There is an old Victorian housing development, a condo complex, and two warehouses. The radius was within ten feet."

"Get the directions to the Victorian housing development from here."

"How did you pick the Victorian housing?"

"It's from historic Victorian society. If these treasure-hunters want my help, they would need clues from history, maybe even from the Victorian era. Besides, the warehouses are in use, and a condo wouldn't allow yelling and screaming to be heard. Also get the specs for the development."

"There are ten streets on this development."

"How is it set up?"

"There are two main streets with eight smaller streets, and two of the smaller streets link the two main streets together."

"What are the names of the main streets?" Ben questioned, pulling necessary items together.

"Rue Amour and Rue Gemme," Riley recited with excellent French.

"Nice French."

"I learned it from the police officers here."

"Love Road and Gem Road. We'll go with Rue Gemme and start looking from there."

"Why wouldn't we look on Rue Amour? Wouldn't that be the sensible one?"

"No, that would be the one they would want us to look at first, buying them more time."

"How do you even know they are leaving us hints? This might just be pure luck if you find them."

"They want me to come to them, but they still want more time with Abigail. They would want us to go a little out of the way, but not too far. The marketplace would be quick capture, so both of us would want to avoid that."

"This is crazy, but I'll do it." Riley sighed, closing into the computer screen.

"Thank you so much, Riley." Riley followed right behind Ben into the van.

They found the develpment with ease, but Ben had to think of possible house choices. After several hours of looking at possible places, Ben narrowed it down to three houses on six streets using deduction. "The house would be white, Abigail's favorite color. They would need one of the most expensive houses in the subdivision for extra room."

"Ben, how would they know about Abigail's favorite color?"

"Illegally." He passed it off nonchalantly. "Her favorite flower is a red rose, so that eliminates the house without the rose bushes. The third option also doesn't have a porch with a step. She always loved white oaks and an aspen together, so I think that is the house. The final option is a house I know Abigail would buy." Ben pointed to a house a couple lots down from their parking spot.

"You know, it could be coincidence that they picked that house." Riley was inspecting the house over the top of his laptop.

"They don't like clichés. They have a limo; white again, not a van and it's a stretch." Ben noted, ignoring Riley's comment.

"So, they are slightly conventional as they have a car that will fit a lot of people."

"Good job, Riley, I must be rubbing off on you. They don't have any outdoor sentries, so they either have electronic surveillance or hidden sentries. They would have electronic surveillance because they had to put the rest of the money somewhere else. They could have gotten archives from any source working for the government."

"So, how do we get in undetected?"

"If they are uncoventional as to not have a van, they must have suveillance all around. There isn't a way in." Ben stepped out and began pacing in front of the sliding door. Riley moved to the open spot and opened the door for free conversation.

"There wasn't a way to get the Declaration of Independence, and we did anyway. There has to be a way in," Riley reasoned.

"Is there a way that you can override the feeds, or at least see if they are wired or not?"

"Yes," Riley answered, already typing for the information. Ben paced while waiting for Riley's response. "They have it wired directly to the computer. I can try to record the feeds, allowing me entrance."

"Why would you do that? How are you able to do this?"

"If you're the hitman, then I am a throwaway. To your second question, they are using another laptop. It may be wired, but laptops can be easily messed with."

"Or you might become more bait. Record the current feeds and start again if anything big happens."

Riley tapped a bit more on the computer before slipping an, "Uh-oh."

"What's wrong?"

"They know we are here. You can see us in the suveillance."

"Pack it up. We're going."

Riley slid the sliding door closed and continued with the current process. Ben started the engine before closing his door.

"See if you can record it while we're away and loop it while I'm in. They won't be able to see the van if there's only electronic surveillance."

Without response, Riley clacked away before announcing, "First camera recording, and nothing is interfering."

Ben began driving down random streets to escape the already advancing guard. "Good."

"Right." Ben took another sharp turn when Riley was beginning to tape another camera.

"Second camera recording with no interference."

"How many cameras are there?"

"Just the two, but they seem to be wide-turning, and they are set at two opposite corners."

"Okay. I'm going back to the house. I'm going to jump out of the car, and you better be ready to take the wheel. If you can, keep them turning in circles. I'll tell you when you should come back around. Listen closely to what I say." He put the earwig in his ear.

"Okay." Riley nodded, too, but Ben didn't notice. "Be careful." Riley put the earwig in his ear while muttering something about he might not.

"Always."

The van pulled back onto the street the house was on, and Ben slowed down before jumping out of the car and slamming the door quite loudly. "Please tell me you started the recordings before we came onto the street." It was into the earwig when Riley heard it.

"Yes I did," Riley spoke into the earwig. "I'll keep checking. Disable the computer while you're there."

"Right." Ben snuck into the side door, and was relieved to find the computer area deserted and right in front of his path. He pulled the plug saying, "Computer disabled. I'm heading towards the servants's staircase. She would be in a family-only parlor on the second floor. It wouldn't be visible from the street, easy to get to without getting seen, and spacious enough to accomodate her."

"Ben, just tell me when you reach a place of importance. It's better without too much commentary."

"Sorry, Riley." Ben rolled up his sleeves, remembering that servants's quarters and hallways were always hot and cramped. He finally managed to find the second floor landing; they all looked the same to him. "I've reached the second floor. Do you have the layout of the land?"

"Sorry, no. There isn't anything of importance associated with it, so I can't get the blueprints."

"We don't have time to look through a real estate database. I'll just look for it." Knowing that some area of servant preparation usually had an entrance to the respective stairs, he scurried through the pantry and found a swinging door. Air was pushing it both ways, allowing a view of the scene in the parlor to Ben. There was a necessary guard and Abigail, sitting calmly in a straight-back chair with her hands tied behind the back of it, facing away from the open window. "Conventional," Ben muttered.

"What was that?" Riley queried.

"Nothing, keep quiet. I'm just outside the family parlor. She's in there." Ben rubbed his chin in thought. He saw oil and matches on a shelf. He wondered how he could control it, and saw a frying pan on the other side of the room. Snatching it down from it's perch quietly, Ben lay down the frying pan on the hardwood floor before going back for the matches and oil. He poured oil in the pan until it was halfway full. Climbing onto a preparation counter nearby both the pan and door, he lit a match and threw it into the oil, causing the exact effect for which he wished; fire.

The guard left his station without alerting anybody and loped stupidly to the swinging door. Ben lept off the counter and slipped through the door before it fully closed.

"Ben," Abigail whispered happily.

"Abigail, are you okay?" Ben began cutting at the binds randomly.

"I'm fine, but they will be alerted your presence."

"They will first have to deal with my grease fire," Ben whispered with a soft chuckle. He had freed her from her binds, and he helped her stand up, but she was only able to hold a portion of her weight.

"But they will know something is amiss. Not all of them are as stupid as that guard."

"Riley, meet us at the front." Ben instructed, easing her down the steps.

"Copy that." The grumble of the van was heard briefly before Riley signed off.

"Of course Riley helped you."

"Well, well, well. I finally found the infamous Ben Gates." The man with the Welsh accent sing-songed menacingly. "You can let your girlfriend go. We don't need her anymore."

"Wife," Abigail muttered, not moving. "I'm staying here, with my husband." 'Husband' was accented cruelly with a hint of striving passion.

"Have it your way. I suppose it would be better for the both of you to see the other getting, uh, interrogated."

"Abigail, please leave. Riley will keep you safe." Ben wasn't used to begging for this kind of mercy, but it seemed to shift her features slightly.

"I'm never leaving your side at any moment."

"_Why do you always insist on going with me to the supermarket? There aren't any vengant treasure-hunters there?"_

"_Because I don't care what the cost or circumstance. I'm fighting by you until the end."_

"_You're a fool to follow me around."_

"_I'm a fool who loves you, Ben. Don't argue, I'm going to the supermarket with you."_

"_Idiot."_

"_Jerk."_

Ben snapped out of it due to a harsh blow to his shoulder, resulting in a sea of black. The strange dream he had (while he was out) was one of harsh realities. He found something missing from his ear, and knew the earwig was confiscated. He also knew without need of eyesight that Riley had been found; expectant at the front door of the enemy's house was not a wise something.

"We have the Three Musketeers here, gentlemen," the leader announced, leering at all three in turn. "Sorry I didn't introduce myself properly before. I'm Donald Smith. Yeah, yeah, I know that without the accent I would still sound English. You also hunt American History-based treasure, so you, Benjamin Franklin Gates, might be wondering why a Welsh has hunted your service. I think you are also going to give it willingly. Until then, all three of you will be sitting right there all day long. I won't torture you for it. Now, I want your baby to live, so I'll keep your girlfriend healthy enough. Don't expect the same treatment. Gentlemen, don't let her share with her...friends."

A general mumble of affirmations spread from behind the three captives. Ben guessed it was five men of no small stature. This was hardly better than pure torture.

"Donald, I'll give you the information you need, but I first need the information you have about this treasure," Ben negotiated defeatedly.

"Please, call me Donny; I like it a lot better. Gentlemen, bring him to my office at two thirty sharp. Leonard, you stay behind for now. The rest of you, watch over the area. Keep your regular sentry cycles and orders."

"What was that for?" Abigail whispered as the guard dove into the pantry to rid the fire and get a candy of sorts.

"He needs me, so he'll have to bring me, and hopefully the both of you, to where the treasure is. I won't lead him on a wild goose chase, either. I will keep the both of you safe."

"Ben, don't have chivalry just because I'm carrying your baby. I'm going with you. I will die if they kill you or Riley or if we get separated."

"It's not just the baby. It's you, too. Please, stay out of harm's way. You should have left."

"I would gladly have gone in her place."

"Shut up, Riley," Ben and Abigail chorused.

"Shut up the three of you," Leonard barked.

"Sure." Riley rnestled in the chair to wait until someone or something could liberate them.

A/N: Sorry about the language. At times like those, most people would probably use them. T rating will come into effect later.


	3. Chapter 3

Riley didn't sit comfortably. Nor was he still. Abigail shrieked each time he was hit for it, but eventually learned to deal with his whimpers of pain. She could tell that Ben had been in the library for a while just by using the sun. It was winter, so the sun went down quicker, letting her know it was about half-past three.

She noted upon arrival that there was no heat system other than fires in the old house, and they were as far away as possible from the fireplaces. Which was where the sentries sat playing cards and keeping an eye on them while punishing them for doing most of anything.

"Would you just stop moving?" One of the sentries said annoyedly, setting down his cards. He moved nearer them. He had already put a bandana around Riley's mouth, but nothing could keep Riley from moving around for some reason. Generally, he sat quite still while dinking around on his computer.

Riley made noises as to respond, which earned him another slap on the past-beet-red cheek. Riley whimpered while Abigail looked away, which caught the eye of the other guard.

"Don't like violence, princess?" he asked, getting up, too, and moving toward them. "I suspect you would consider who your husband is, Dr. Chase." Her face darkened, and the guard also took note of this. Riley was now paying attention rather than plotting how to get out of the situation; the guard crossed his arms and joined his buddy. "Oh, sorry, I forgot. Dr. Gates." He teased, laughing with a roaring laugh similar to a lion's.

After getting bored because Riley had returned to his normal glazed-look he had developed and Abigail had returned her head to its hung position, they heard footsteps on the stairs and Ben shortly emerged in front of Donny.

"Well, then, Mr. Gates, that wasn't so hard, was it?" asked Donny, shoving him into the chair where the guards could secure him. "All I needed was some information so that we can make travel plans. Oh, don't worry, we have a private jet where you can drink martinis and tell us all about how you met Riley and Dr. Chase. We will leave in the morning, and you will come with us. Dr. Chase, Mr. Poole, we are going to Germany to continue the search. This has nothing to do with treasure of your government, but I do need Mr. Gates's help to find it. And one of you might be of assistance.

"Try getting some sleep. The guards won't be present tonight because we trust that you will either sleep and won't run away or will try so hard to run away that you will set off one of the new alarms. We trust that you are going to plan, so we didn't bug this place. There is no place in the world that you cannot hide from me. I will eventually get you. Good night."

The three waited until the moon had cast its glow and the sentries had left.

"Was he lying to us?" Abigail asked, looking between Riley and Ben for answers.

"No. He wants us to escape for fun. And that's what we are going to do. There are some things that he got illegally that he showed me. There's no other way that he could have gotten those unless he was some sort of busty girl. Anyway, they couldn't have been stolen like we stole the Declaration."

"Did they have a fax number on them? If you remember it, we can trace it to see who gave it to them?" Riley got excited enough that he nearly talked in a regular voice.

"No, and Donny obviously wanted the study to be guarded more than us, so can't get the numbers. I do know that they were based out of Canada. Our next move is to go to Canada.

"But first, we need to get out of these bonds. Fortunately, I got a sharp object, and you are released, Riley." Ben turned to Abigail to free her. He motioned to the largest window, which had a guard strolling beneath it. The other windows appeared to have the same thing lurking below them. Ben checked the prep room through which he entered. He figured there would be some sort of way to get to the bottom through a laundry slide. He found it, and motioned for the others to follow him. Riley moved to question him, but Abigail gripped his shoulder to stop him. Ben got in first, then a reluctant Riley and finally, thankfully, Abigail. They slid right down, making some noise, but Ben figured it wasn't enough to wake the tenants who _were_ sleeping. Ben caught Riley and Abigail before realizing they were in the basement.

"Isn't there generally a trash exit where the maids took out the trash?" offered Abigail, completely making a blind guess. "I mean, this is the maids' floor. Wouldn't there be several rooms down here for various dirty jobs. There should even be a kitchen down here."

"Hold your hunger until we're out of here, honey," Ben warned. "And keep quiet."

He led the way through a room and eventually found a doorway, and it led up through a couple of stairs and out into the fresh night air. He checked quickly for guards, and was extremely happy to find the cameras still hadn't been brought back online (though probably planned).

"Where's the van, Riley?"

"Still out on the street. The keys were still there."

"We can't take it, though. Starting it will start the whole neighborhood," Ben answered wittingly.

"We have to walk out of here?" Abigail asked with a quiet shriek. "How will we ever find our way back to the hotel?"

"We have to get Riley's things if they didn't take them, and we have to get our things quickly before they find out we're gone. Quickly."

They set off down the street after getting the laptop and through the subdivision until they found themselves in a new predicament; traffic. Ben saw (as if it were a miracle) a taxi and flagged it down. The taxi driver gave them odd looks as they climbed in the car, but said nothing. Ben gave him the address and sat back against the cushions with his mind in a bind.

"Ben, relax. They can't catch up to us now," Abigail said, twenty minutes later, trying to make some sort of talk. "Unless we alerted them."

"They wanted us to leave, but left guards out. They wanted my information, but let me go. They want their own national treasure, but they want my help even though I'm American. They tortured you both, but they left me alone. They aren't as conventional as we originally thought." Ben listed these off on his fingers. He was looking in the rearview to see when the driver would notice something was wrong with them physically.

"Ben, what does this mean to you? Why are you beating yourself up over this insanity? All they want is treasure. Remember Ian? He betrayed you for his fifteen minutes of glory. And then there was Mitch, who was only trying to prove his family's worth and destroy your own, a form of treasure in itself. All they could possibly want is the treasure or you. If the former, you're fine. If the latter, we're screwed."

"That's for sure," mumbled Riley.

"Thanks for the innuendo reference, Riley," Ben answered, rubbing his temples again. "We really need that right now."

The rest of the five minutes to the address were silent. Abigail waited in the car to make sure the driver didn't run off while Riley and Ben gathered their things. In a matter of minutes, they returned and put them in the trunk with the help of the cabbie.

"Aéroport," directed Ben, buckling back into his seat. He resumed rubbing his temples. Abigail reached up and took his hand to stop it. He smiled minutely before grasping it and waiting out the ride.

"I wish I could do that with someone," commented Riley.

"Shut up, Riley," Abigail and Ben chorused exasperatedly

They waited out the ride and emerged quickly into the airport after paying the cabbie and thanking him. As they arrived, they had a plane going to England that was going to leave in an hour, which was just enough time to get through security and customs and get over to the terminal.

-

Abigail rested against the seat, applauding herself for not having to use the restroom in over a day. She finally got to relieve herself after the seat belt light had flashed off. She was also applauding herself for impeccable timing in everything that had happened in the past three hours. It was stressful for her being pregnant, but she endured it well remembering that she had survived the water system in the City of Gold and the caverns under the church, not to mention Riley's perpetual whining. This had almost been nothing compared to those.

"Abigail, is there something you want to talk about?" Ben asked worriedly as he studied her face under the lights on the plane.

"Nope. I'm just fine. I've been through worse." Abigail plucked a magazine from the pouch and began flipping through it.

"You're really alright?" he ventured skeptically.

"I'm fine. I just really want to rest. I was hoping for some off time in France, but now that were wanted from fugitives, I really couldn't be even more relaxed."

"Thanks for the sarcasm. I'm so sorry that you couldn't be more relaxed during this trip. I was planning on not having to go treasure hunting."

"Well, when you're not treasure hunting, you are solving puzzles left and right."

"I thought you liked that about me."

"I do. I just really wanted some time away, and I knew that you wanted that, too. It's not that you find puzzles. It's that they find you. And you rub your temples and worry too much about me when you are trying to solve one that has little to no pieces."

"You have the same habit of rubbing your temples, Abigail."

"I know, but I'm avidly trying to work on it. That's not the point, anyway. I know there's a puzzle you're trying to find out, but you're trying to decide between me and the puzzles this time. You will either go back and try to solve the puzzle or keep me safe. It's an honor to find you this caring and loving, but don't let me hold you back from what you love to do. I don't mind being second."

"But I mind you being second, Abigail. You should always come first. That's why I ran away: for your safety."

"Thanks, Ben. Now can I get some rest?"

"Sure," Ben shrugged, turning back and nestling into the seat.

Abigail put the magazine back in the pouch and settled back into the uncomfortable seat to hope to get some rest.


End file.
